Just Like You
by n0b0dys-ang31
Summary: Set just after Fifth year, and contains OOTP spoilers. THIS IS A MODIFIED SONGFIC set to 'Just Like You' by Three Days Grace
1. Default Chapter

A/n: All right, people, this is a half way decent idea, in my opinion. It came to me while I was listening to the song "Just like you" by Three Days Grace. This is a songfic, but it has a different format from a regular songfic. You'll see what I mean. Anyway, it's a one-shot, and complete the way it is. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
Harry lay, crumpled, on the floor of his room in Number Four Privet Drive. The Dursleys had left three weeks ago, basically dumping him out of the car, locking him in the second bedroom, and leaving for parts unknown. He had survived by having Hedwig fly out the barred window, picking up the garden hose, and flying the end back up to the room, which he looped around the bars several times so it wouldn't slip back down. The intelligent bird, after a few tries, had successfully turned the spigot with her claws, causing the hose to spurt to life. She had survived by hunting for herself and stealing food for Harry when she could: out of garbage cans, off of back porches, and even taking hamburgers and buns right off of a grill. _That bird is bloody amazing.  
_  
_ I wonder if Dumbledore will actually respond to my last letter, or will he ignore it like all the others?_ the starving boy wondered while staring out the window, waiting for Hedwig to return from Order Headquarters.  
  
Five minutes later, Harry could discern a white shape flapping slowly towards him, carrying a single piece of parchment. Hedwig landed as gracefully as she could, but the weeks of malnutrition and near starvation had taken its toll on her as well. Harry absently scratched her head as he scanned the parchment.  
  
  
Harry Potter-   
Stop writing to me with petty complaints! The Order is too busy tracking the movements of Voldemort to baby-sit you! I have placed a warding spell on your owl. No longer will she be able to fly to Headquarters, or bother the Weaseleys or Miss Granger with your quest for attention. You are a resourceful young man; you will be fine!  
  
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.  
  
  
  
Harry weakly balled his hands into fists, crumpling the parchment into a little ball. "That bastard!!!" he seethed, hissing in his anger. "Petty complaints??? Starving to death is petty??? I'll show him!" He snatched a piece of lined paper from the desk, as well as a pen.  
  
  
To whoever receives this:  
My name is Harry Potter and I need your help. Please, come get me, as my guardians have locked me inside a room without my wand, and I have had little to no food. I've been here for three weeks by myself in these conditions, and Dumbledore refuses to help. I'll do anything, please, just get me. The address is Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whining, Surry. Please, hurry. Don't bother sending a reply, as my owl can't take much more flying.   
Thank you, Harry Potter  
  
  
  
"Hed? Could you do one more favor?" he asked gently, holding the hose with a partial kink in it so Hedwig could drink more easily. Finally slaking her thirst, the owl hooted softy. "Could you fly this to someone who can help me?" She bobbed her head and took the paper from Harry's skeletal hand, flying back outside the window.  
  
  
  
"MUM!!! Why is the hose running up the back of the house???" woke Harry from his half delirious stupor three days later. Hedwig had been gone for the entire time, and no one had come for him. There had been no food at all, and he was so weak he couldn't even make it to the window to use the bathroom or drink.  
  
"What was that, Duddikins? OH MY, VERNON!!!! THE FREAK WAS DOING MAGIC AGAIN!!!!!! He got the hose up the side of the house!!!!!!!!!!!!" a shrill voice shrieked at top volume. Harry looked out the window blearily, the voices finally registering.  
  
_ Oh shit, they're back.... maybe they have food...._ he thought, swaying slightly from side to side. A few seconds later, he lost it completely, landing on the floor with a muted thump. _Nice floor,_ he thought giddily, just in time for the door to fly open with a crash.  
  
He looked up to see Vernon hulking in the doorway, his face purple._ Nice color,_ Harry thought disjointedly, his eyes refusing to focus. _So pretty_.  
  
Vernon bellowed and swung his fist, catching the emaciated boy and sending him soaring through the air to crash, ribs first, into the bars on the window. His cheek caught on a sharp edge and ripped open, blood pouring down his face. "Why aren't you dead already???" the enormous man hissed angrily, his face red.  
  
Harry shrugged weakly and started coughing up blood onto the floor. He grabbed his chest, lungs screaming in agony with each labored breath. _He ruptured something in me_, The Boy Who Lived thought weakly. Vernon strode over to him and dragged him upright, snapping his wrist in the process. Harry let out a gasp of pain, too weak to even cry out as the room in front of him swam into blackness.  
  
"What are you- VERNON!!!!! HELP!!!!!!" Petunia shrieked from downstairs. Suddenly, she was cut off. Vernon paled and dropped Harry, returning him to semi consciousness, sprinting out the door.  
  
"Who are-" Vernon was abruptly cut off and silence filled the house. Multiple treads could be heard coming up the stairs and Harry's lightning bolt scar burst open, sending blood streaming down his face to matching his gushing cheek.  
  
_Owwwwwww,_ Harry moaned mentally, lying in a growing pool of his own blood. The door burst open again, and, amidst the thudding footsteps making the floor vibrate, the smooth baritone of Lucius Malfoy could be heard.  
  
"What the- Potter? He wasn't lying, My Lord. He's starving, and losing blood, and fast. If you wish for us to save him, we will have to do so immediately or he will die."  
  
Voldemort's high pitched hiss reverberated throughout Harry's head, making him whimper and curl into a ball, clutching his bloody scar. The Dark Lord knelt down next to his side and absently stroked his hair with an equally skeletal hand." Well, Potter, what do I get out of saving your miserable life? What are you willing to give me? And, why isn't your headmaster here to save his little weapon? What did you mean by he wouldn't help you?"  
  
Harry raised his head weakly and stared around the room, biting his lip. Finally, he slowly moved his uninjured arm and gestured to the wadded piece of parchment in the far corner of the room. A nameless, black robed figure retrieved it and read it aloud incredulously, his voice climbing higher and higher with each sentence in outrage. After several shocked moments of silence, Harry finally found his voice. "Please, please help me. Get me out of here. He's left me here to die. I'll give you everything- my allegiance, my life, the Wizarding world on a silver platter, just please help me. I don't want to die." Harry slipped into blackness and knew no more.  
  
  
  
On September first, Ron and Hermione met at the train station, looking for Harry. Dumbledore had sent them both letters at the start of the summer, telling them that Harry was fine, but unable to write or visit. They would see him September first at the train station. They kept their eyes peeled for their friend, anxious to get caught up with what had happened while they were apart.  
  
They found an empty compartment and kept the door open, waiting anxiously for Harry to walk down the hallway. There was no sign of him, and the train departed from the station. Hermione shook her head. "Maybe he's in another compartment, talking to some rabid fans?" she suggested hopefully.  
  
"Yeah, maybe. You check that way, and I'll head towards the front," Ron suggested, walking purposefully from their compartment.  
  
They looked in every compartment, even the Slytherin's. Hermione stopped by Draco Malfoy's compartment on her route. "I know, I know, stupid Gryff lost her friends," she began brightly, but her face crumpled. "I can't find Harry and I think he missed the train and I'm so worried cuz he hasn't written all summer and my owls returned unopened have you seen him?" she gushed, tears trickling down her cheeks.  
  
Draco stared at her unreadably for a few seconds. When he spoke, his biting, sarcastic tone was gone. "Granger, I can't tell you what's happening. Just know that he's all right. Does that help?" he told her gently, sitting her down across from him in the compartment and gesturing for Pansy to give her a Kleenex.  
  
"I'm just so scared." she said softly, dabbing her watering eyes. "I know what the Dursleys are capable of! They STARVED him second year and Ron had to rescue him!" she blurted out, unable to help herself.  
  
Draco chuckled softly. "Well, we do know where he is and he is safe. You'll see him soon, really soon." he assured her, leading her to her feet. "I honestly can't tell you any more but choose wisely." With that, she found herself in the hallway again, confused, the door behind her shut and locked. With a sad little smile, she went to find Ron.  
  
She found him talking to Dean, getting the same kind of story. "You know where he is, too???" she yelled at Dean and Seamus. "I just got through the same crap from Malfoy!!! No one will tell us anything! We tried to write to him every day all summer!!!!" she yelled, thrusting a wad of unopened envelopes at the startled Gryffindor. "When you see him, give him these, would you?" she asked desperately." Let him know we've been terrified all summer that he was going to die and tried to get him four times. The first two times, the wards wouldn't let us within a half mile of the house. The second two, the house was empty except for the blood in his bedroom," she choked out, crying in earnest.  
  
Dean looked troubled. "The only thing I can say is-"  
  
"To choose wisely," Hermione interrupted. "I know, Malfoy told me the same thing."  
  
They went back to their compartment, both crying softly. Hermione shared her Kleenex.  
  
  
  
During the Sorting Hat's song, they dejectedly held each other's hands, acutely aware of the missing person who should have been sitting between them. About halfway through the song, Hermione started to cry softly and reached for a napkin. "I don't get it, Ron- he was supposed to be there! Dumbledore assured us he would! And we tried to get him! Why couldn't we get within a half mile of the house? The wards are to protect him from harm, not keep out his friends!"  
  
Ron hugged her, terrified for his best friend. "I just don't know, Hermione. I don't get it at all. Why hasn't he written, and why did all our letters return unopened? That wasn't like him, especially so soon after Sirius's death. Even thought Dumbledore told us not to worry, I can't help it! I hope nothing has happened to him!"  
  
Hermione shushed him. "Not so loud, Ron! Someone could hear!" she hissed.  
  
Ron stared thoughtfully across the Hall at Malfoy, who seemed to be waiting for something. "Now that you mention it, the Ferret's acting funny, as are most of the Snakes and some of the people in the other Houses. I wonder what they're up to. I wonder who they're- is Harry coming?" he hissed, barely audible, to Dean.  
  
Dean ignored him, but used American sign, nodding his hand softly up and down. Hermione's eyes widened when she saw the hem of a Death Eater's cloak under Seamus's school robes. _What is going on???  
_  
The Sorting Hat finished it's song, and McGonagall stood up to help sort all the new first years into their houses. The Hat had just placed Welsh, Stephanie into Hufflepuff when the doors burst open, a black hooded and cloaked figure gliding into the Hall. The figure threw back its hood to reveal a teenager with soft ebony hair falling to his shoulders, a lightning bolt scar over his left eye, a deep, newer scar running down his right cheek, and piercing green eyes. Harry Potter stood before them and raised his head, staring at the entire school coldly.  
  
"HARRY!!!" yelled McGonagall happily. "Where have you been?" She rushed over to hug him. "We were so worried!"  
  
He froze her with a piercing look and she backed away, staring at him fearfully. "Ask the Headmaster," he hissed eerily. He turned to face the dumbstruck student body. "It is time." He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and toyed with it.  
  
As one, seventy students, from varying years and Houses stood. Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zambini, Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Theodore Nott, Hannah Abbot, Seamus Finnegan, and Dean Thomas were the first to strip from their school robes, Death Eater Robes underneath, stride to Harry, smirking, the others following in their example. "Command us, Lord," they intoned respectfully. Harry simply smirked and gestured for them to stay put.  
  
Ginny brushed past her brother and stripped her school robed from her shoulders gracefully, walked over to Harry Potter, and dropped to a knee. "My Lord," she intoned quietly. Harry placed a finger under her chin and he smiled, helping her to stand.  
  
"Remus, Severus," he asked quietly, his voice carrying across the Hall nonetheless. "Are you coming as well?" The two of them smirked and stood up, their ebony cloaks snapping behind them as they walked to stand on either side of Harry. The parchment disappeared from Harry's hand and reappeared in front of the shaking Headmaster.  
  
Neville and Luna caught each other's eyes and stood as well, walking bravely over to Harry's side. Harry simply raised an eyebrow as they stared at him determinedly but said nothing, gesturing for Draco to transfigure their school cloaks. He did so and the entire group, over a quarter of the student body, turned and walked out of the Great Hall. Draco turned at the last minute and stared at the Gryffindor table, directly at Hermione and Ron.  
  
_ Choose wisely, _they both thought and made their decision.  
  
Hermione and Ron jumped up, running after the group. "HARRY!!! WAIT FOR US!!!!!" they yelled, skidding to the door. Harry turned around and walked back.  
  
"You know who my Lord must be. Are you sure you want to follow me and my Lord as well, freely, without any ulterior motive? My Lord doesn't take too kindly to spies."  
  
"What about-" Ron asked quietly, gesturing to Severus.  
  
"His loyalty is proven, as is Remus's" Harry hissed, causing Dumbledore's jaw to drop. Severus and Harry both smirked evilly at the flabbergasted Headmaster while Remus chuckled.  
  
Hermione grinned cheekily. "We're the Golden Trio, Harry. All for one and all that junk. Do you honestly think we'd let you have an adventure alone?" Harry smiled softly.  
  
"I had hoped not. I see Draco was kind enough to give you my message. Thank you." Draco nodded, a rare smile gracing his face.  
  
"Yeah, mate, you're stuck with us. Besides, with you and Voldemort teaming together, there's no chance for anyone to win against you. I may not be the brightest, but I'm not stupid," Ron grinned, linking arms with Harry. On the other side, Hermione did the same. They walked out, leaving the rest of the student body and teachers in their wake.  
  
At the Head Table, Dumbledore unrolled the parchment and scanned the interior, his face growing progressively whiter with each line of the oddly written poem.  
  
  
  
I could be mean,  
I could be angry,   
You know I could be just like you.  
  
I could be fake,   
I could be stupid,   
You know I could be just like you.  
  
You though you were standing beside me   
You were only in my way   
You're wrong if you think that I'd be just like you  
  
I could be cold,   
I could be ruthless,   
You know I could be just like you  
  
I could be weak,  
I could be senseless,  
You know I could be just like you  
  
You thought you were there to guide me  
You were only in my way  
You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you  
  
On my own, cause I can't take living with you   
I'm alone so I won't turn out just like you.  
  
  
  
Dumbledore let the parchment drop from white, shaking, nerveless fingers. "We are so fucked."  
  
Lyrics belong to Three Days Grace and are titled "Just Like You"

To the person who asked whether or not Dumbledore would say the F word, that was the challenge my BETA gave me: get Dumbledore to say FUCK. I think he would in this situation.


	2. Just Like You 2

The Shadowen, the name for the newest, school age followers of Voldemort and his Protégé, Harry Potter, were seated comfortably in the Library of Riddle Manor, reading various books. Harry sat on a couch in the center, his two best friends seated next to him on either side.  
  
"Harry, how did you know?" Hermione asked suddenly, drawing the attention of everyone on the room. They all leaned in to listen.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked absently, leafing through a book on how to properly break someone with the least possible physical damage.  
  
"Why didn't you think we had abandoned you?" she asked curiously. "I mean, you hadn't heard from us all summer, and none of us appeared on your doorstep ready to save you, so how did you know?"  
  
"Dumbledore told him, in a letter, that his mail was not getting through to anyone but him," a cold, harsh voice interjected. Hermione and Ron looked up and their faces paled. Voldemort stood in front of them, his scarlet eyes glittering. "I didn't believe that I would one day have a Weaseley and a Muggleborn in my ranks," he mused thoughtfully, studying the slightly shaking teenagers sitting on front of him.  
  
Bravely, they nodded. "Lord Voldemort," they managed by way of greeting.  
  
He grinned and laughed. "You two have courage, that's for sure. Most others would have fainted or had a coronary by now."  
  
"My Lord, did you want something?" Harry asked politely, his eyes cold as ice.  
  
"Yes, Potter, I do. We have a raid three days time, and I was wondering if your newest recruits would like to join us?" he asked quietly. The real underlying message was 'are they ready?'  
  
"I think, My Lord, that they should train some more and then we shall test them. Those that pass should be allowed to go, while those that either do not wish to or do not pass should stay here as guards."  
  
"Why wouldn't some wish to go?" Voldemort asked, testing him. "Duty to act is the duty of a Death Eater. If they won't act, they aren't worthy of being my followers."  
  
"You can have supporters who dislike torturing others. You can have followers who have not been desensitized to violence. I can name four, the newest and my friends, who would probably not enjoy seeing others harmed. That does not make them not worthy of being Shadowen, but only human. When I first started at the beginning of the summer I hated it. Now, if you had given me the Dursleys to practice on, rather than kill them right away, I would have jumped right into it without a moment's hesitation. Instead, Pettigrew was offered a week into it." Harry went back to reading, his expression closed.  
  
"I should Crucio you for your insolence," the Dark Lord growled.  
  
"You know it has next to no effect on me now, My Lord," Harry said, sounding as if he were bored.  
  
Hermione and Ron gaped at him. "Harry, you shouldn't piss off the most powerful person on the planet," Hermione said in a reproachful undertone.  
  
Draco smirked. "That'll be Potter in less than a decade," he said with mirth. Harry remained impassive while the rest of the Shadowen gaped at him. Hermione and Ron stared at him proudly.  
  
Voldemort stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "And how are you so sure of that, Young Malfoy?" he hissed eerily.  
  
"I overheard you and father talking a month ago. You said that because he was fully your heir magically and the combined blood heirs of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, that no one would be able to stop him. If you taught him to his full potential, he would surpass Merlin." Draco cocked his head to one side, an entirely too innocent expression on his face.  
  
Voldemort glared at him and everyone else, with the exception of Harry, cringed slightly. Draco just stared back at him defiantly and Harry was busy ignoring everyone in favor of his book.  
  
Ron elbowed Harry. "Mate, the Ferret's about to die," he muttered.  
  
"No he isn't," Harry replied in the same tone of voice. "He does this all the time. Lucius and Voldemort are like best friends or something. Voldemort's his Godfather, I think."  
  
Ron and Hermione gaped at him, but at his serious expression, just shrugged and went back to reading. Voldemort stopped glaring at Draco to stare at the two Gryffindor's incredulously. Draco glanced at Hermione and Ron and started laughing. "Only you two would dismiss the Dark Lord as harmless enough to ignore," he muttered.  
  
Harry looked up from his book with exasperation. "Considering that you were the one who was mouthing off, they were doing something smart and being inconspicuous so he wouldn't turn his wrath on them!" He went back to reading, Ron and Hermione staying as quiet as possible.  
  
Voldemort laughed then, startling everyone. "All right, training will commence in thirty minutes. Meet me in the main entrance wearing something that can be messed up and torn."  
  
  
  
Three days later, everyone stood in the main hall of Riddle Manor, smoothing Death Eater robes and holding their masks with nervous fingers. Harry stood with Ron and Hermione, reassuring them in low tones. "You don't have to do this, you know," he said softly. "No one will think any less of you. Blaise is staying behind. You could as well."  
  
Hermione glared at him. "Harry James Potter," she hissed angrily, "we agreed to stand with you and we will! Besides, Blaise just found out she's pregnant! The only reason she's staying is because Aaron McKnight would kill her for endangering their child!"  
  
Harry sighed and backed away, raising his voice. "Shadowen, Assemble!" he called coldly. Everyone stopped milling around and strode forward, arranging themselves in ranks. "You know, Dumbledore's Army is now Voldemort's Army," Harry mused with a sadistic grin. Hermione and Ron snickered, and the entirety of the DA grinned back at him just as evilly, eager to begin.  
  
"As you know, we're taking out the Ministry tonight. On Our Lord's signal, we will Floo into the area already secured by Lord Malfoy, the Department of Mysteries. From there, we Apparate in our prearranged groups into different areas of the Ministry, securing the Minister, any remaining Aurors, and the higher ranking Ministry Officials. From there, we will take them to Azkaban Prison, where the Dementors will make short work of them. From there, we will regroup and attack Diagon Alley immediately, our supporters in Knockturn Alley assisting us. Kill those that raise arms against us only!"  
  
Draco grinned and swaggered over. "So, Potter, who do we get first?"  
  
"Aurors, most likely. There're over five hundred of them." He stiffened, a hand clenched over his scar. A minute later, he nodded through the pain, his hands relaxing. "It's time." He distributed the portkeys, muttering "I hate it when he contacts me that way!"  
  
The portkeys took effect, and everyone found themselves in the Department of mysteries. Harry ran a hand over the Veil, his eyes clouded with pain. _Sirius, I'm sorry. Your killer has been dealt with.  
  
Bellatrix Lestrange writhed under the effects of Harry's Crutatious curse, her agonized screams echoing off the chamber. Several Death Eaters had to leave, and others looked ill. He grinned down at her sadistically. "I told you I'd get you for Sirius."   
_  
He came out of his trance when Hermione and Ron put their hands on his shoulders in sympathy. Even Draco had his eyes downcast and didn't say anything. "Let's go," Harry said brusquely, shaking off any lingering feelings of melencholy.  
  
The Shadowen drew their wands and quietly crept up the stairs. On Harry's signal, they Apparated in their groups and stormed the offices, joining the numerous Death Eaters already fighting. Within minutes, the fighting was over. The Aurors that were still alive were petrified and Apparated to Azkaban. Harry found Fudge personally, hiding in his office under his desk. He hauled the trembling man out by his hair, grinning sadistically.  
  
"You're going to rot in Azkaban for what you did to my family," Harry growled. "That is, before the Dementors Kiss you."  
  
Fudge trembled and promptly wet his pants. Harry girmaced in disgust, causing the terrified man's eyes to roll back into his head and pass out. "Petrificus Totalis," he muttered and them levitated the frozen Minister out of the office, passing several Death Eaters who were just leaning on the walls, talking. Harry navigated around them and then Appatared his package to Azkaban, setting the still frozen Minister inside a stall. As he left, he lifted the curse and listed to Fudge's horrified screams fill the air.  
  
He apparated back, touching his scar as he did so. M_y Lord, Fudge is in Azkaban. Should we regroup?_ he asked once he could feel Voldemort's mind open to his.  
  
_ Yes. Was he any trouble?  
  
Other than the extreme grossness of his being incontinent from fright, no.  
_  
Voldemort chuckled. _Well, call the Shadowen. This is rather inconvenient, their not holding a Mark. It makes it much more difficult to round them up when you need them.  
  
When we figure out how to call someone without causing them mortal agony, you can mark them,_ Harry reiterated.  
  
_ But that takes all the fun out of it!_ Voldemort protested.  
  
_ I won't have you causing yet another generation of Death Eaters, especially my Shadowen, undue pain,_ Harry reminded the Dark Lord. _You can have at it to your heart's content when we figure out a way to Mark them without -  
  
Causing them undue pain. I know, I know and I agree with you._ The Dark Lord interrupted him, mentally rolling his eyes. _I wonder why I don't just kill you for your cheek, boy.  
  
It's my wonderful conversation skills and extreme attractiveness,_ Harry deadpanned.  
  
_Prat. You're ego is bigger than my infernal Godson's.  
  
And you put up with me because I could rule the world singlehandedly, provided I have the right tutelage.  
  
Too true. So, is the Ministry empty of opposition?  
  
Yes, My Lord.  
  
Then I shall gather the Death Eaters and you shall gather the Shadowen. We attack Diagon Alley in five minutes.  
  
Yes, My Lord. I must end this now before my head explodes in agony.  
  
We need to work on this method of conversation.  
  
I'll see you in five minutes, My Lord._ Harry ended the conversation, holding a hand to his now bleeding scar, his eyes dulled with pain.  
  
"Draco," he said softly, seeing the blond through the haze his vision had become.  
  
Draco walked over and pressed a clean hankerchief to Harry's bleeding forhead. "We really need to work on that method of communication," he muttered.  
  
Harry grinned shakily. "Our Lord said the same thing," he muttered through clenched teeth. Draco let out a brief snort of laughter and guided him over to Severus, who was overseeing the last of the Ministry Officials being Apparated to Azkaban.  
  
"Severus?" Draco asked, almost fully supporting Harry's weight.  
  
"Yes, Draco?" Severus turned and his face twisted in sympathy. "Oh, my- We need to work on that link of yours, Mister Potter." Deftly, he produced a blue liquid in a small vial and coaxed it down Harry's throat.  
  
Draco chuckled. "We are all in agreement on that."  
  
Harry staggered from Draco, the tightness in his face slowly easing. "Our Lord says five minutes until we attack Diagon Alley. You know the drill, attack hard but only kill those that put up a fight. McNair!" The older man swaggered over.  
  
"Yes?" he said shortly.  
  
"You are to alert our friends in Knockturn Alley. Go." McNair nodded and Apparated.  
  
"Nott!" Another beefy older man walked forward. "Yes?"  
  
"Go to Azkaban and get the Dementors. Forty of them are prepared to attack." Nott nodded brusquely and turned, Apparating in mid step.  
  
Lucius Malfoy strode up the hallway, the rest of the Shadowen and Death Eaters behind him. "Are we ready?" he asked, smirking.  
  
"Let's go," Harry ordered tersely. Immediately, they Apparated. 


End file.
